Insanity and French Fries
by Hawki
Summary: MCU Oneshot: So you've been bitten by a genetically modified spider. What do you do? Well, if there's a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man you can talk to, turn to page one. If there isn't, turn to page three. Either way, please consult page two for how to deal with symptoms including, but not limited to, sweating, vomiting, and dealing with potential love triangles.


_A/N_

_Bit of a heads up, while this is written in a post-_Far From Home _context, it was also written before the film came out (and at the time of writing this author's note, I haven't seen said film yet). So if there's any major discrepancies between this and the film, that's the reason why._

* * *

**Insanity and French Fries**

"So," Peter said, looking across the table. "You look, um, nice."

Cindy gave him a withering glare. So withering that Peter was surprised that he didn't just turn to dust there and then. True, it wasn't as if Cindy Moon was wearing gloves, but…well, over the past few months, he'd become quite wary of anyone snapping their fingers. Being turned into ash, and coming back into the world five years later, tended to have that effect on you.

"I mean, it's kind of cool isn't it?" Peter continued. He leant forward, and talked in a whisper. "Like, there was a second genetically modified spider, and you got bitten by it, and hey presto, now you've got spider powers as well."

Cindy groaned and rested her face on the table, and her forehead on the glass of water she'd ordered.

"You, er, hot?" Peter asked.

Cindy murmured something.

"Like, feeling hot, or are you hot?"

"Peter," Cindy murmured. "I know that Michelle likes you, and that you're Spider-Man, and that you're an Avenger, and that killing you will get me and the world into all sorts of trouble…" She lifted her face slightly so Peter could meet her eyes. "But if you don't stop trying to be nice now, I can't be held responsible for what happens next."

"Well, you can actually. With great power comes great…" Peter trailed off. "Um, sure. Pretend not to care. I can do that."

Cindy groaned again and went back to using her glass as a means of cooling herself down.

_Damn, least I got over the spider bite in a day._

He hadn't expected to return to New York and have to deal with this. Europe had meant to be a vacation, only it had turned into a story of elemental monsters, lying scumbags, and Nick Fury Nick Furying. Having come back home in the knowledge that "Furying" was now an adverb, and that Michelle knew he was Spider-Man, and that he was pretty much an Avenger now, he'd hoped to have some time to himself before going on to fight…well, maybe not purple giants, but hey, whatever floated the boat. Only once he and Michelle had parted ways, he'd got a text from Cindy, asking, no, _telling _him to meet her at this time, and at this place. Surprised, but following the orders, he'd arrived, and fifteen minutes late, Cindy had stumbled in and imparted the following information:

1: She hadn't gone to Europe because she was sick

2: She was sick because she'd been bitten by a spider

3: Weird stuff was happening to her body, including the ability to shoot web from her fingertips

4: She knew he was Spider-Man

5: Help her sort this out, otherwise his life would get very complicated, very quickly.

There hadn't been a sixth point. There'd barely been a fifth. Laying all that out had taken its toll, and the whole "help me or I'll ruin your life" schtick didn't really work when the person making threats could barely stand. So, as of the last five minutes, Peter had tried to frame the conversation in the context of only the first three points, and hope that his schoolmate forgot points four and five.

"Was it this long with you?" Cindy murmured. She was still face down on the table, still with her head against the glass.

"Um, no, not really," Peter said.

Cindy groaned.

"I mean, it wasn't too bad for me. Get bitten, fall asleep, wake up with a six pack and spider powers. Pretty neat actually."

Cindy groaned even louder.

"I mean, it's weird – you'd think being bitten by a genetically modified spider might have some adverse impacts, or-"

Cindy sprung up, and Peter could tell what was coming. Fortunately, Cindy managed to sprint to the bathroom before letting it all out.

_Yep. That'll do it._

He tapped his fingers on the table, looking around the place. Burger Town had changed over the past five years, and so had the menu. It was like a microcosm for the planet really, he figured – everything's the same, everything's different, if you were unlucky enough to be fried by a weird purple guy, suck it up. Looking around, Peter could get some sense of normalcy. But looking at the news on the flatscreen, showing events from years past that he hadn't been around for, he was ever reminded of what he'd missed.

Five minutes passed before Cindy stumbled back to the table. Peter looked up at her. "Hey," he said. "Feeling better?"

She groaned and slumped back down in the chair.

"Guess not."

Truth was, she was looking slightly better – slightly less flushed at least. But clearly the spider's poison was still making its way through her system, and her body was still adapting.

"So," Peter said.

"So?"

"So, like, you brought me here for a reason, right?" he asked. "About the whole spider schtick."

"Yeah." She leant back in her chair and began rubbing her forehead. "Also said that you'd help me or-"

"So, first rule of being a superhero," Peter said. "Always help old ladies cross the street. It may seem small, but small deeds work their way up to big ones, and-"

"Hey, do I get a suit?" Cindy asked.

Peter blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do I get a suit?" she repeated. "I mean, you got help from Tony Stark, right?"

"Um…yes?"

"So, where's my suit?"

Peter couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "Um, the suit…well, made my own suit at first, but, yeah, Mister Stark helped me out." He glanced back at the flatscreen. "Mister Stark helped me a lot." He looked back at Cindy, who looked ready to throw up.

_Oh great. I pour my heart out and get the gag response._

Cindy coughed and bile came out onto the napkin Peter put in front of her in time. A passing waitress raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless scooped it up and put on the pile of dirty plates she was carrying.

"Thanks," Peter murmured.

She gave him a sympathetic smile, then looked at Cindy, who was now taking a sip of water. "Girlfriend's not feeling too good huh?"

Cindy spat the water out. Peter barely noticed it land on him, as his eyes widened, and his heartrate doubled. "What? Oh, no, we're not…she's not my…"

"Oh," said the waitress. "Sorry, just thought…"

"Yeah, that's fine," said Peter. The waitress just kept standing there, looking at Cindy, who was looking at her, before looking back at Peter.

"Say, can I have some fries?"

"Large or small?"

"Large," Cindy said. She looked up at the waitress. "Boyfriend's paying."

"But I thought you said…" The waitress sighed. "Sure. Fries. Whatever." She headed off towards the kitchen, muttering something about teenagers.

"Um, Cindy?" Peter looked back at his schoolmate, who was back to drinking water.

"Hmm?"

"You know we're not…like, M.J. and I…"

"Relax Peter, you're not my type." She took another sip of water.

"Oh. Good."

It felt so weird to be pleased to know that a girl wasn't into him.

"You're still paying though."

"Like hell I am."

Cindy put the glass down on the table with a thud. "Come on Petey – Tony Stark gives you a suit, he doesn't give you an inheritance?"

Peter glared at her. It must have done its job, because Cindy slowly went back to drinking from the glass. They actually sat there for awhile before she spoke again.

"For what it's worth," she said, "you and M.J. make a good couple. I mean, if I did tell her that you were Spider-Man, I-"

"She knows," Peter said.

"Oh." Cindy lowered her glass and began pouring herself some more. "Fair enough."

_Heh, jealous?_

"How'd she find out? Surf the web? Hack S.H.I.E.L.D.? Do a flow diagram?"

"No, she just figured it out on her own." Peter blinked. "Wait, you hacked S.H.I.E.L.D.?!"

"Fries, sir."

"Seriously?" Peter ignored the waitress and kept his gaze focused on Cindy. "You hacked S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

She shrugged.

"Sir, your fries."

"Cindy, if you did that…well, I don't know what's going to happen, but-"  
**"Sir, would you take the damn fries?!"**

"Just put it down on the table!" Peter yelled. He looked up, seeing that the girl was carrying so many orders on only so many arms, that she couldn't do that. "Oh. Sorry." He picked up the bowl and put it in the table's centre.

The waitress glanced at Cindy. "Boyfriend's kind of a dick."

"I know, right?" Cindy winked at her.

"I'm not her…" Peter sighed. "Fine. Whatever." He grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them in.

_Oh that's good._

Cindy began to eat as well, which Peter supposed was a good sign. When he'd awoken with his powers, the first thing he'd done was consume a trio of hotdogs on the way to school. Then he'd run to school, because he'd had just that much energy. By the end of the day, he was climbing walls, and getting ideas about how to impress girls. Which…didn't go the way he'd intended. Saving up to buy a bike and finding your uncle dying on the sidewalk from a burglar you could have stopped didn't tend to factor into High School Romance: 101.

"For what it's worth," Cindy murmured, "I didn't hack S.H.I.E.L.D.."

Peter was barely listening at this point, but he let her talk.

"Still, did figure it out," she said. "You in Washington, you skipping the bus to fight the donut ship, you being in Europe at the same time as Spider-Man…Honestly, I'm surprised more people don't know."

Peter shrugged. "They might, soon enough."

"What, with you, being an Avenger?"

"Someone has to be." He glanced at the TV screen again, as talking heads talked as they'd done five years ago. "I mean, there's no shortage of vacancies…" He looked back at her. "Guess that's it then."

"It's whatsits?"

"That's it," Peter said. "I get to be an Avenger. You get to hone your powers and protect New York."

Cindy stared at him; half eaten chips sitting inside her mouth. "Peter…"

The chips were now showing, but Peter kept talking. "What? You wanted to understand your powers, right?"

"Well, yes, but, I never said anything about using them."

"Oh, come on, it's great," Peter said. "You get to stay out late, fight crime, risk your life for the greater good, go home with the satisfaction of a job well done…"

Cindy rested her hands on the table. "Yeah," she said. "Not doing that."

"Come on Cindy-"

"Thanks for the fries Peter, but…" She looked back. She'd gotten up, but her right hand was stuck to the table.

"Um, Cindy?"

"Seriously?" she whispered. She tried pulling her hand with her other one, but it wouldn't budge. "Seriously?!"

"Relax Cindy."

"Relax? How can you tell me to relax?!"

People were looking at them by now.

"Cindy, just take a breath…"

Some were even saying what a good boyfriend the guy was being, and how crazy his girlfriend was.

"Sit down…"

Cindy did so.

"And relax."

She took a deep breath, then tried to move her hand. It still wouldn't move.

"Um, relax harder."

Cindy opened her eyes and glared at him.

"Okay, like, try and imagine a deep blue ocean with the waves going in and out." Peter took a breath and closed his eyes. "In and out…in and out…in and out…"

"Peter?"

_Oh God._

He opened his eyes. There, standing between them, was Michelle "M.J." Jones. Looking at a teenage boy talking about going in and out of wet stuff, and a girl whose hand was looking slightly wet and sticky as well.

"M.J.," said Peter, forcing a smile. "I, er, didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, um, me either." She looked at Peter, then Cindy, then back to Peter. By the time she did so, the look on her face had turned from mild suspicion to moderate suspicion.

"So," M.J. said. "Catching up with friends, huh?"

"Er, yes."

"Talking about oceans, and going in and out…Huh, I can imagine a lot of things guys and girls do when it comes to going in and out."

"M.J., it's not like that…"

"I mean, I get the whole romantic getaway thing at the ocean, but I thought after Europe we-"

"Peter's helping me."

Two pairs of eyes turned to Cindy. Actually, a lot of eyes were on her, plus whispers as to whether the boy had two girlfriends or not.

"Helping you?" M.J. murmured.

"Yeah." She tried moving her hand again.  
"As in-"

"I got bitten by a spider, and I've got powers similar to Peter's. I felt ill, I threatened to tell the world his secret, so he came over to help me master them. Only that hasn't happened so far, because I've been vomiting, and sweating, and my hand's still stuck to the table."

M.J. stood there. Peter sat there. On the flatscreen, some pundit went on about the new Black Widow.

"Oh," M.J. said. "Neat." She helped herself to some fries. "Hmm. Pretty good." She began to walk out.

"M.J?"

"Dinner at my place remember Peter. Don't be late." She paused in the doorway and gave him a wink.

"Um…" Peter's face was turning as red as Michelle's hair.

"Oh hey, my hand's free."

His eyes turned back to Cindy. Indeed, her hand was free from the table, and her fingertips were covered in white stuff.

"Heh, neat huh?" She put her palm in her face.

"God's sake, get that away from me."

"Sorry." She turned her palm to face her. "Huh. Weird. From here, it doesn't look like web, but more like silk."

Peter got to his feet. "Really can't tell the difference." He put his backpack on. "Anyway, glad we had this talk. If you need help, I can always…"

Cindy gave him "the look."

"Gah, fine." Peter fished out a fiver and put it on the table. "Keep the change," he said.

"Buying my silence?"

"Yes."

"And, what? Using the rest of your money to buy flowers?"

"Yes." He took a few steps back, and said, "um, see you around."

With that, he headed out the door.

He hadn't been planning to buy flowers actually, but who said good things couldn't come from insanity and French fries?


End file.
